


Wrecked

by Cumberbatch Critter (ivelostmyspectacles)



Series: Sleepy Hollow OTP Prompts [5]
Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fear, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Tragedy, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-23 04:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2534186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/Cumberbatch%20Critter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Lieutenant?" he repeated. Still, it garnered no response. A sick feeling was starting to settle into his stomach, fear souring the hunger he had felt moments ago. "Abbie!"</p><p> </p><p>  <b>Prompt: Person B calls Person A while Person A is driving. During the conversation, Person A gets in a car crash. How does Person B react?</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you read the prompt, you know what this is about, so take heed of subject matter if that'll bother you.  
> Prompt from the OTP Prompts Tumblr.
> 
> I do not own _Sleepy Hollow_. Thanks for reading!

Ichabod pressed the speed dial for Lt. Mills. He had memorized her number longer ago - the very first time after seeing it on his ‘Caller ID’, as it were - but it was quicker to press one button and hit the green button to send. Perhaps he was melding into this modern day, but he tried not to think about too much.

"Hey, Crane, what's up?"

Ichabod held his phone loosely to his ear, glancing skyward out of unrecognition of the metaphorical question. "The ceiling, most presently. Outside, the sky and perhaps some clouds. Heaven, eventually, if you believe in such a place."

He did, and always had, but Abbie had her tendency to deny what she couldn't see, even if they were destined to be taken to the Holy Land after the seven year period of Tribulation. Ichabod didn't figure Abbie had many thoughts about the afterlife; he was somewhat ashamed to say that morbidity had taken over his mind more than once in this period of half a year since they had met. He tried to stay in the present. Like Abbie had once remarked, in the here and now.

There was a brief moment of static, and then Abbie, in a tired voice: "I meant, why did you call. What do you need?"

"Well, I find myself lacking in the," he opened one of the cupboards, "grocery department." He opened another one. "I can always walk into town if you're busy." He glanced into the cool box, the one Abbie called a fridge. He really was low on provisions. He would have to make a schedule for grocery shopping to avoid this.

"No, not busy. I'm just about to get a bite, you want me to bring you anything? It's a burger night."

As loathe as he was to admit it, he had developed a taste for fast food. Home cooked meals were always better in his book, but something about food prepared quickly and wrapped in paper was very good, too. Cheeseburgers - he really _was_ merged with the masses of today - were like blessings.

His stomach growled, reminding him that all he had had for food today was a breakfast of eggs, toast, and sausage. It was nearing seven in the evening now. He had gotten wrapped up in reading; he was currently sorting through detective fiction to add to his growing expanse of knowledge.

"That would be most appreciated," he said out loud.

"Sure. Do you want anything else with-"

There was an almighty noise just then, something that drowned out Abbie's voice and grinded into Ichabod's eardrum. It sounded like an explosion and the screech of metal tearing.

He jerked the phone away from his head, fearing that something may have happened in the operation of the device, but it appeared to still be functioning. His screen still said Abbie, and the call duration was running.

"Lieutenant?" He put the phone back to his ear. "Lieutenant?"

He couldn't make out much, but he could make out voices, distant, in the background of Abbie's phone. There were horns honking, that much he was sure. Anything else he would have to guess at.

"Lieutenant?" he repeated. Still, it garnered no response. A sick feeling was starting to settle into his stomach, fear souring the hunger he had felt moments ago. "Abbie!"

When no response came, Ichabod dropped his phone and took off, grabbing his coat from the rack by the door. He didn't have a vehicle, but he'd run all the way to her if circumstances necessitated it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I left it open-ended, because I think I might write a follow-up chapter. ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Chapter One.

Ichabod didn't like hospitals.

He was fairly sure that no one did, but he had right to be exception to the rule. He had scarcely stepped foot into a hospital in this century. He did not like it, and he liked it even less when Abbie was the one tucked into the hospital bed.

Nonetheless, she smiled at him as he entered the room, hands clasped behind his back.

"Hey, Crane..."

He smiled faintly. "I am glad to see you have awoken, Miss Mills. You gave me quite the fright," he said.

"Sorry, Crane." Abbie clumsily reached up to rub her eyes. There was an IV connected to her arm. She was horrifically pale. Ichabod had never seen her look so pale; he honestly didn't know how it was plausible.

Ichabod stepped forward. "I'm afraid I cannot accept your apology, Lieutenant, for I am the one who should be apologizing. Had I not called you for such a trivial matter-" He stopped as Abbie held up her hand.

"No, Crane, I..." She attempted to sit up and winced. Ichabod flew to the bedside, reaching for her shoulder to help her sit up with as little pain as possible. "I shouldn've answered it, anyway, but... it wasn't even my fault... someone ran a red light." She sighed thinly, closing her eyes. "Now I'm the one paying up for it. The other guy barely has a scratch."

Ichabod removed his hand from her shoulder slowly. "Life has a strange way of punishing the good," he said. "I wish this had not happened to you, Lieutenant. I wish..." he trailed off. How he wished that he had been there, to take the brunt of the impact rather than her. Or how he wished that he hadn't been a distraction to an already tired Abbie, who had then failed to notice the car that hadn't abided by the traffic laws. Perhaps how he wished the other guy was here in this bed, with cuts and gashes and bruises, IV and plaster for broken limbs - but no. No, wishing this on the other person was not proper, Crane, get ahold of yourself.

"Don't beat yourself up, Crane. Not your fault," Abbie interrupted. "Besides, you're going to have to help me out, you won't have time for guilt. I can barely walk." She tapped on the bulky plaster cast covering her leg and grimaced. "Not good for our line of work."

Ichabod exhaled through his nose and swept his coat out of the way, sitting on the edge of the chair nearby. "Whatever you desire, Lieutenant, I will attempt to push through the advancements of this century to acquire it for you."

Abbie laughed softly. "Maybe some more painkillers. Kidding," she added, looking at him. "I'm kidding, I'm on enough. It only hurts a little bit."

Ichabod's nostrils flared - only a little bit indeed. There was no good reason that Abbie should be here now. As much as he told himself to not dwell on it, he couldn't help it. It must have showed on his face.

"I'm _fine_ , Crane. I'll be fine." She toyed with the IV absently to fix a twist in the line, but then her arms dropped heavily back to the bed. "How did you get here, anyway?"

"I ran."

Abbie opened her eyes again; she must have been tired, because they kept falling closed. "You _ran_?"

"When you didn't respond after the horrifying noise over the phone..." Ichabod shrugged. "One did not have vehicles in the war, Lieutenant."

"You had horses," she pointed out.

Ichabod smiled in spite of himself. "We did," he agreed. "But as I do not possess a horse currently, I ran. And when I got into town, I hailed a cab to the nearest hospital. Luckily also the largest, and most frequented." He glanced around the room. "Devoid of comfort as it may be."

Abbie smiled faintly. "Yeah, it's pretty drab." Her eyes fluttered shut again.

Ichabod hesitated - but then, what harm could it do that had not already been done? - before reaching out to grip Abbie's hand. "Get some sleep, Lieutenant," he said softly.

Abbie opened her eyes again and looked at him with some surprise, before it softened out into gratefulness. "Talk later," she murmured, and closed her eyes again.

Ichabod stayed there even after the Lieutenant had fallen asleep, even after Miss Jenny had shown up. Abbie's hand was warm, her fingers entwined with his. It was a sign that she was still there, still with him, and Ichabod was not prepared to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My inspiration went FLOP a little bit, but I still think it's rather sweet.
> 
> Sorry if this wasn't what everyone was expecting ^^''


End file.
